Episode 5: Fertile Ground for Murder
by Castle Season 9
Summary: A case hits close to home for Kate when a pregnant woman is found shot to death. With few leads and fewer suspects, Captain Beckett has to overcome some of her worst fears to bring the killer to justice. Meanwhile, Castle struggles with questions about his future. Season 9, episode 5.
1. Chapter 1

**Fertile Ground for Murder**

Season 9, Episode 5

Written by Colie MacKenzie

 _This is a work of fiction by writers with no professional connection to ABC network's Castle. Recognizable characters are the property of Andrew Marlowe and ABC. Names, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental._

* * *

 **Content Warning** : This episode deals with the murder of a pregnant woman and her unborn child.

* * *

Rick startled awake, ripped from the haze of a confusing dream by the alarm shrieking next to his head. He opened his eyes, fumbled for his iPhone on the night stand to shut off the offensive noise.

Six a.m. The late October morning still lay doused in darkness, with only the street lights bathing the world in muted orange hues; the rush of the early morning traffic as the city awakened muffled by the thick panes of the soundproof windows in the loft. He stretched out his calves under the comforter, his toes, rubbed the grit from his eyes.

His wife lay curled on her side beside him, knees drawn up and her butt nestled against his hip. Warmth exuded from her body, kissing his skin through the fabric of his boxers. She slept on, her breathing deep and calm, unperturbed by the earlier racket of the alarm. He'd counted at least three times that she'd been up throughout the night to go to the bathroom, maybe four, but when she slept, she slept hard, sunk into deep, almost motionless rest. He'd forgotten about some of these first-trimester pregnancy effects until they'd set in: the constant fatigue that weighed on Kate, the frequent bathroom visits. Yet his wife soldiered through it all with her customary, unerring strength. She amazed him, every day, made his heart skip and race, and if he wasn't so in love with her already, he'd fall for her all over again.

Castle turned on his side, bracketing his body to the curve of hers, sliding an arm over her waist. His hand came to rest atop the curve of her stomach where their baby was nestled, growing by the day. The size of a lime now, so the pregnancy app proclaimed, developing reflexes and ear lobes; tiny mouth making sucking motions, little heart beating its fast rhythm. He couldn't wait to hear the sound again, that rapid, life-affirming whoosh-whoosh on the ultrasound, felt impatient to feel the signs of growing life himself, the kicks of tiny limbs against the walls of Kate's stomach.

He nuzzled his nose to her neck, inhaled her sleep-warm scent, his mouth whispering across her skin, murmuring words to bring her awake. Kate snuffled into the pillow, mumbled something unintelligible as he felt her slowly awaken. At last, she turned to her back, her eyes slowly opening and her hand sliding to join his atop her stomach. Their fingers intertwined. He leaned over to kiss her, to feel the silky softness of her lips.

"Hi sweetheart."

"Hey," she hummed, voice a little raw from disuse, and then she yawned, her body stretching, arching in the sheets. She was adorable and arousing both, the warmth in her smile when she looked up at him, her sleepy scent and the rosy hue tinted to her cheeks, the simple joys of the everyday that he tried never to take for granted. Not after everything, not after how close they had come to losing it all; so startlingly aware now of the fragility of life.

"I sleep through the alarm again?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Ugh. I could probably sleep another twelve hours and still feel tired."

He smoothed his palm along the curve of her stomach. "Just about twelve weeks now. The books say this might even out fairly soon."

"Can't wait," she smiled, eyes sinking closed at the rhythm of his caresses, a long exhale sliding from her lungs. Her midsection was so responsive to the touch, not even an arousal thing, just sensitized to every tender caress.

"Am I showing yet?" Her eyes fluttered open, her pupils dark, infinite pools in the sparse early light of dawn. Her words were wistful, and he wondered, as he so often did, what it felt like to Kate, the many emotions and changes for which she had a hard time finding the right words that could encompass the strangeness and the wonder of it all. The surreality of growing a child within her, those early weeks of constant vigilance, hyper-alert to every change, feeling symptoms and yet living with its fragility every day. The persistent worry whether everything was still okay. A baby you knew existed, in this cloudy awareness where you couldn't yet feel it even though it nestled within your own body. It was real and yet startlingly abstract at times, this process of developing new life. He was a writer, adept at imagining and empathizing with most experiences of the human condition, yet this was one he could hardly grasp.

"I can tell." With his fingertip, Castle drew a line along the barely-there roundness. "I know your body; I see the changes." Like the altered curvature of her belly, the darkened nipples and the thickening of her waistline, the healthy pink glow to her cheeks. She was so beautiful, it took his breath away.

"No one else will be able to tell yet, though," he assured her.

It was a frequent question lately, usually asked in front of the bathroom mirror as Kate scrutinized her appearance from each angle, eagerly awaiting the signs of this growing life and yet wary of a protruding curve they didn't yet wish to have to explain. With her history of trauma, they'd chosen to wait to share the news until Kate was past the twelve-week mark, too frighteningly aware of the statistics on first-time pregnancies.

"Won't have to worry about it much longer." Kate brushed her thumb across the back of his hand in an almost hypnotic rhythm that made him want to close his eyes and stay nestled in bed with her all day. "But first we have to get through tonight. Everything work out the way you wanted it?"

"Mm hm," he assured her, his thoughts still sluggish with sleep. "All set." He tucked her just a little more tightly against him, felt her shift to check her phone before she dropped it back on the nightstand. Kate turned within the bracket of his embrace, pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

"No calls yet," she murmured against his skin. "We have a few minutes."

He tightened his arms around her as she stretched out her body against the length of his, her curves soft and warm, her thigh coming up to hook over his hip. He held her while she breathed evenly against him, in and out, his thoughts drifting to visions of tiny toes and wispy infant hair and cherub cheeks nestled to Kate's milk-rounded breast.

* * *

They were accosted by Ryan and Esposito the moment they stepped off the elevator at the 12th.

"Was just about to call you, boss," Espo said, stopping before them on their way to the elevator. "Got a fresh one. You might want in on that. Press is gonna be all over it."

"Why?"

"Vic is Victoria Van Houten," Ryan said.

"Of the Park Avenue Van Houtens?" Castle exclaimed. The Van Houten family was one of the richest and well-known families of New York; old money and lineage that could, or so the legend went, be traced back as far as when New York was first settled as New Amsterdam.

"The very same," Espo confirmed.

"Shit." This was not going to be good. Kate rubbed her forehead, tried to dispel the pounding headache that lurked just behind her temples. Some days it seemed as if her body still hadn't adapted to the lack of caffeine. Her morning vanilla latte was the only caffeine she allowed herself each day, and it did little to fight off the draining fatigue that weighed on her limbs, made her feel lethargic and inattentive.

"Okay, let's go, guys." Without even setting foot in her office, she and Castle turned around, following Ryan and Espo into the elevator.


	2. Chapter 2

Kate had never forgotten what it had felt like to step foot into Castle's home for the first time - the wide-open living space, the high ceilings, the luxurious yet understated decor.

The loft paled in comparison to Victoria Van Houten's Park Avenue apartment. A whole wall of floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the two-level space with light, overlooking from its 24th-story height the bustle of the city below and the sprawling greenery of Central Park just a couple of blocks away. A spiral staircase led up to the balcony that opened into the second floor, and pale October sunlight glinted off the polished antique wood floors.

And in the middle of this beautiful, shiny surface lay Victoria Van Houten, straight blonde hair fanned out around her head like a halo. It would almost appear as if she were sleeping, porcelain skin and rose-tinted cheeks, were it not for the gunshot wound marring the middle of her chest - a vicious red stain against the cream silk of her robe - and the lake of thick, dark, coagulating blood pooling beneath her. Her hands lay curved around her protruding belly as if trying to protect the life nestled within until her last breath.

Nausea climbed up Kate's throat, her breathing feeling labored and her vision blurring. She'd hoped she was mostly past the bouts of morning sickness by now. She blinked, but the image of the gunshot wound on the pregnant woman that matched the scar between her breasts seemed seared to her retinas. Kate pressed a palm over her midsection, trying to breathe through it, in and out.

"Kate…" Castle murmured, his voice low enough that only she would hear. He placed his hand on her lower back, and she turned to him, found understanding in his eyes.

"It'll be okay," he reassured her, and she nodded, felt the warmth of his presence and his calmness settling over her.

"Beckett, you okay?"

She startled at Ryan's voice but found her focus. She nodded. "What do we have?"

"Victim is Victoria Van Houten, 34 years old, married, daughter of real estate mogul and shipping magnate Victor Van Houten and his wife Merel. One twin brother, Sander Van Houten. Husband's name is Luciano DeLuca," Ryan pointed his pen in the direction of the left wing of the apartment where a man sat hunched over on a sofa. He wore sneakers and workout shorts, and the front of his shirt, his hands, his knees were splattered with blood.

"29 years old, actor in diverse commercials, one-line TV appearances and off-off-Broadway plays. Says he found the vic like this when he came back home from his run at around eight-thirty a.m. Tried to do CPR when he found her, which would explain her blood all over him."

They stepped up next to the victim where Lanie was performing her initial assessment. Castle hovered near Kate, his presence calming her frayed nerves and the lingering sense of nausea.

Lanie looked up, compassion in the warm, brown eyes. Kate met her gaze, pleading wordlessly, _not here Lanie, not now_ , and her friend understood, focused on her clipboard as she started ticking off her notes while pointing at the victim.

"Lividity indicates that the victim died between six and eight this morning. A couple of cracked ribs support the husband's claim that he did CPR. So do the EMTs that arrived first on the scene. Said they found him hunched over her body, hands pressed to her chest."

"Why were the EMTs first?"

"Husband called 911, requested an ambulance. They didn't have an indication that she was already dead. According to their statement, the husband hoped they could at least save the baby, but by the time he'd found his wife, she'd already been without any blood circulation for at least 30 minutes, if not more. There was nothing they could do for the baby."

Everyone fell silent for a few moments, weighed down by the particular tragedy of two lives lost, one of which had never even gotten the chance to live. Kate felt like crying, had to swallow hard around the knot in her throat.

"The wound appears to be from a nine-millimeter bullet," the medical examiner continued her report. "Could possibly match the .38 revolver found on the scene, but we'll only know once ballistics comes back."

"It's a Smith & Wesson 638." Esposito clarified, walking closer with the gun in an evidence bag. "Very popular revolver for self-defense, especially among women. Husband confirms the weapon did belong to his wife." The pale pink plastic handle of this particular model indicated that this was most likely true.

"We'll get it to the lab for prints, but there are smears along the metal so it may have been wiped down."

"What else?"

"No signs of forced entry. Looks like the vic let in whoever killed her, or the person had a key."

"She knew her attacker," Castle added soberly. "Well enough to be comfortable letting him or her into her home dressed in just a robe."

"CSU is dusting everything for prints," Esposito continued, "but the couple held a lot of parties, and they had staff going in and out, a cleaning lady, catering crew and waiters, so the chance that anything is going to crystalize is pretty slim."

"Okay." Kate nodded, gathered her wits, still fighting with the nausea roiling at the bottom of her esophagus. "Looks like we're just about done here. Espo, Ryan, dispatch unis to canvass the neighbors and some of the adjoining floors, check if anyone heard or saw anything unusual. Get a statement from the security guard in the lobby. And bring the husband down for questioning. This one is going to get extra scrutiny so we need to be above board with every step." The guys nodded, Ryan scribbling down notes.

"I need to talk to the press, and then Castle and I will meet with the parents. Lanie?" The medical examiner looked up from where she was bent over the victim.

"Call me the moment you have anything. This family has connections to everyone; we're gonna get raked over the coals if this investigation drags."

"Will do."

On their way out, Castle pulled her to the side in the hallway, away from all prying eyes. Kate slumped against him immediately. She pressed her face to his sternum, breathing him in, his familiar musky scent, the hint of aftershave, his warmth. He didn't say anything, didn't need to; he'd seen it too, and she knew he understood what it did to her, how it hit both of them.

So he just held her for a few moments, his arms bracketed around her shoulder blades and her waist, pressing her to him, until she'd gathered her strength, felt fortified to walk outside and face the press corps already waiting on the sidewalk, with their microphones pointed, their storm of camera flashes, their shouted questions.

* * *

Luciano DeLuca was, quite objectively, a stunning man. No wonder he'd become an actor, Ryan thought to himself as he and Esposito settled in across the table from the man seated in Interrogation One. The only surprise was that he wasn't more successful, with those looks. 6'3" tall with a slim physique that appeared toned in all the right places, jet-black hair and dark, brooding eyes, the chiseled features and cut jaw line rivaling the likes of Brad Pitt.

He sat stooped in his chair, forearms resting on the tabletop, ceaselessly kneading his fingers. The detectives had let him get washed up and change his clothes, had unis bag them as evidence, before bringing him back to the precinct. Ryan could still see the remnants of dried blood caked beneath his fingernails.

"Okay, walk us through your morning, Mr. DeLuca."

"I got up around six-thirty or so, I put on my running clothes…" He swallowed, his Adam's apple jumping in his throat while he kneaded his knuckles. "Had some coffee… Vicky was still asleep when I left for my run-"

"Was this the last time you saw your wife alive?"

He nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. "I didn't even kiss her goodbye today. I didn't wanna wake her, she needed her sleep…" He sniffed.

"When did you leave your apartment?"

"'Round quarter to seven. Maybe a little later? I don't know for sure."

"Okay. So you went for a run-?" Esposito prodded DeLuca into continuing. The man nodded.

"I went over to Central Park, ran for about an hour, then came back home."

"If you left the apartment at six forty-five and ran for an hour, what took you so long to get home? According to the 911 call log…" Ryan flipped back a page on his notes, reading from his notes, "you placed the call for an ambulance at eight twenty-eight this morning. That leaves a good 40 minutes unaccounted for."

The man's eyebrows knit. "Might've ran a little longer. I always walk for a while after a run, five minutes, maybe ten, get my heart-rate down. Then I stopped by Bel Ami's over on 68th. It used to be café au lait I brought home for her-" A wistful smile played on his lips. "Now it was a pain au chocolat, and a Moroccan mint tea each time. You know, because of- the baby." His voice gave out at the end, turned into a croaked whisper, and Ryan thought that the man was either an incredible actor, or truly stricken. He was hitting all the right notes to pluck at the heartstrings. Ryan felt dismayed at his own cynicism.

"Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts? Did you meet anyone during your run? Speak to anybody?"

Luciano DeLuca shook his head. "No. I had headphones in. Lobby security could've seen me, I guess. Maybe the guy at the coffee shop? I think the receipt's still in my wallet."

Ryan took some notes, noticed from the corner of his eyes that Javi was sitting back in his seat, arms folded and chest puffed, assessing DeLuca wordlessly. Letting the silence hang, its weight heavy like an anvil. The trick worked almost every time.

"Look, detectives," DeLuca leaned forward and directed pleading, nearly indignant eyes at them. "I know what this looks like, okay? Here I am, a nobody, a second-rate actor at best, married to this beautiful, successful rich girl. I must've been in it for the money, right?"

Neither Ryan nor Espo acknowledged the veracity of the claim.

"But it wasn't like that," DeLuca continued. "It was never like that. She's-" He stopped himself, swallowed hard. " _Was_ the most incredible, the kindest person I have ever met. She didn't care that I didn't have any money, or that my plays were abysmal most of the time. She said she wanted me to get to live my dream, and what was all that money good for if not to make life easy for those she loved?"

He smiled through a sheen of tears. "She was… my most ardent fan. And I loved her. And our baby. We were… so ecstatic. Six hours ago my life was perfect and now-" Luciano DeLuca hung his head, his whole body deflating in the chair across the table, silent tears running down his cheeks.

* * *

Beckett felt more than saw Castle appear behind her as she added one more point to the still sparse murder board. His hand briefly caressed across her lower back, the touch unnoticeable to anyone else yet its tenderness like a balm over her spine. He handed her a mug of coffee.

"Thought you might need this."

Kate gratefully reached for it, inhaled its scent.

"From the secret stash of decaf," Rick whispered, winking at her.

"Better than nothing." She took a sip, let the warmth of the liquid unfurl in her stomach. Dealing with the press was never a pleasant experience, particularly when she lacked any solid information to give out, and then she'd had to tell the parents that their only daughter was dead before they heard it on the news. She felt drained already, and it wasn't even noon yet.

"Alright," she addressed Ryan, Esposito, and Vikram once everyone had gathered around them, forming a semicircle around the murder board. "Fill me in."

"Husband's alibi is weak at best." Esposito began outlining the information they'd gathered during the interview. "Says he left the apartment when the victim was still asleep, went for a run and to a coffee shop. Found her dead when he returned home a little before eight-thirty a.m. No witnesses so far that could corroborate his statement."

"He did have a receipt from the coffee shop he went to," Ryan interjected, turning toward them from where he'd been adding points to the timeline. "But the timestamp of the transaction is eight-ten, which is after our window of death."

"Bel Ami's is a block from the building," Espo added. "He would've had enough time to kill her, go to the coffee shop to solidify his alibi, and come back to 'find' her," he added air quotes, "when he did and call 911."

Ryan flipped to the next page on his note pad. "The security guard we interviewed earlier confirms that she saw DeLuca come back around or after eight-fifteen, to the best of her recollection. Problem is her shift only started at eight, and we've not yet been able to reach the night guard who was on duty before that. No sign-ins into the visitors' log between six and eight either."

"And we can't access any of the building security footage without a warrant," Vikram added. "Seems the super-rich fancy their privacy, even with a murder happening right under their noses."

"What'd his motive be, though?" Kate questioned, eyeing the bare bones listed on their timeline. "Money?"

"Seems weak," Castle nodded. "Looks like he'd have access to much more of that with her alive."

"Yeah, he had a sugar momma." Espo snickered, and Kate glared at both of them.

"I mean, cynically speaking," Castle added.

"I pulled his bank statements." Vikram handed her several sheets of paper. "Not much in there. He had some income, inconsistent at best. Doesn't look like he contributed much financially to their daily lifestyle - no outgoing payments for rent, insurances, utilities - but what little he had he appears to have spent on her."

Castle glanced over her shoulder, reading from the top page. "Almost daily charge at Bel Ami's…"

"That's the same coffee shop," Ryan confirmed.

"Edon Manor, Bergdorf Goodman, Sephora, Pottery Barn Kids, Piccolini,..."

"Okay, so what else?" Kate prompted her detectives to go on. She could hear the desk phone ringing in her office, had the gnawing sense that she was already being hunted down for updates on the case, by the D.A., the Commissioner, 1PP, who knew. She leaned against the desk behind her, instantly felt the relief from the strain to her lower back.

"'Kay, so the husband didn't know of any problems the victim might've had with anyone." Espo ticked off the additional details. "No recent fights, no financial concerns, no known enemies. Says everybody just loved her."

"Matches what the parents told us," Kate looked over at Castle who nodded his agreement. "They weren't aware that she'd been having any struggles. She was just… content. Kind to everyone. Happy."

"She sounds too good to be real. What'd they say about the husband?"

"Well they weren't too fond of their daughter's choice, at first, but her mother claims that once she saw how much she loved him, and how well DeLuca treated their daughter, they somewhat begrudgingly accepted him into the family."

"DeLuca did say that his wife went out for dinner with her best friend last night, a Claudia Lombard. He'd had a performance at Gene Frankel Theater over on Bond Street, and when he came home she seemed a little upset, or concerned about something, but she didn't want to talk about it."

"Alright," Kate rose from her perch against the desk, directing her team. "Go talk to the victim's friend." Ryan and Esposito moved toward their desks, grabbing their coats.

"And Vikram, see if you can get any street cam footage from outside the building. And stay on them about those security tapes." She turned to Castle. "You should go with them. I need to call 1PP, and then I have a phone conference about next year's budget."

"Will you be okay?" He eyed her, concern turning his eyes a darker shade of blue, and she wanted to press herself against his chest, feel the reassuring beat of his heart.

"Yeah, yeah I'll be fine," she said instead. "Really."

"Okay." He leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to her cheekbone. "I'll see you later."

He joined the two detectives who were waiting for him, while she turned to head to her office.

"And don't forget to eat lunch!" Castle called out to her on his way to the elevator, loud enough that the rest of the bullpen turned, staring at them both. She rolled her eyes, yet she knew she couldn't keep the affection off her face.

"I won't."

Ryan and Espo stared at him.

"What? Just watching over my wife."

"Come on, let's go." Espo rolled his eyes, shouldering Castle as they walked and muttering "Whipped," his voice carrying loud enough that pretty much everyone within a half-mile radius could've heard it. A few snickers reverberated through the bullpen.

"Hey!" Her husband's voice, a little indignant. "I heard that!"


	3. Chapter 3

"She was… one of those people that just drew you into her orbit." Claudia Lombard tugged a cigarette from a slim silver case. Her fingers shook as she lit it. She took a long drag, pushing the smoke from her mouth.

"You know, I had quit this because of her." She waved the cigarette. "Ever since the baby, she was so much more concerned about it. About me…" She took another lengthy drag. "No point to it now, I suppose."

"Ms. Lombard-"

"You guys want some coffee?" Her eyes looked vacant as she gestured toward what Espo presumed was her kitchen. "Water?"

"No thank you," Ryan said.

Espo knew it was a good plan to let Ryan take the lead with this one. His calm demeanor and subtle strength worked well in questioning female witnesses. He presumed that it made them feel safe. Protected.

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Castle leaning forward, his forearms resting on his knees, watching the witness with quiet, intent attention.

"Ms. Lombard, you had dinner with Ms. Van Houten last night?"

"Yeah." She nodded, her eyes flitting toward the window. Her irises were light blue, looked almost translucent in the rays of sunlight crawling through the large apartment. She sat straight-backed, her dark hair shimmering with what he figured were highlights carefully added in by a really expensive hair salon, and it seemed to him that everyone within the orbit of Victoria Van Houten was not only rich, but also devastatingly beautiful. Espo felt like he might've landed on another planet, full of stunning aliens whose beauty turned you into a salt statue if you looked too long.

"Her husband said she came home upset," Javier prodded her, and her eyes startled back to him. "Did you two have a fight?"

"Oh- No. No. Not _us_ -" She trailed off, bit her lip, folded her legs.

"Ms. Lombard, if there's anything she shared with you, we need to know," Castle added. "You'd want us to find who did this to her, don't you?" It still amazed Espo how the man could wrap any woman around his fingers with solely a few well-chosen words.

The woman lifted her wide eyes to them, seemed to mull this over as her teeth tugged at her bottom lip, and then she sighed. "She was having trouble with her business partner. Anita Alon. They own an interior decorating company together, 'Van HAlon.' Terrible wordplay, isn't it?" She chuckled without mirth.

"It worked for them, though. Really well. But lately… Vicky just needed to talk through some things last night. Said they were heading in different directions. Vicky wanted to dissolve the company and I think Anita was _not_ happy about it."

"Okay," Espo said, and Claudia Lombard's solemn focus slid from Castle over to him. "Last question, Ms. Lombard. Where were you this morning between six and eight a.m.?"

She blinked, once, twice. "Uh, yoga class? At 'YogaWorks' on 3rd and East 76th. I take Vinyasa Flow every Monday from seven to eight. I took the car, probably got there around quarter to seven to change."

"Thank you, Ms. Lombard. If you think of anything else-" Ryan handed her his business card. "Please give us a call."

* * *

In stark contrast to Claudia Lombard, Anita Alon was all animated movement and expressive grief.

"Please, have a seat." The diminutive woman in the slim white pencil skirt and suit jacket gestured at a stark-purple, modern sofa as she led them into her office, then folded herself into a chair across from them as if the weight of the world had landed on her slight shoulders.

"You and Victoria Van Houten were business partners?"

The woman nodded, her sleek blonde bob brushing the line of her jaw. "Six years now." Her voice was shaky, and her eyes were blood-shot, silent tears running down her cheeks that she swiped away with a tissue crumpled in her fist. "We met back in college, did a project together, found that we had a lot in common. And it went from there…"

"We heard you've been having some issues lately?" Esposito questioned, and Anita Alon's eyes widened in surprise.

"Issues?"

"Seems you and she had different ideas for the direction of the business, that Ms. Van Houten was considering dissolving the business?"

"Dissolving the business?" The question was all startled breath, her mouth falling open in an 'O.'

"Were you angry about that?" Esposito was drilling down, playing the proverbial bad cop routine in counterpoint to Ryan's calm, trust-building conduct. It worked well for them; Castle always enjoyed watching the two of them play off each other, the push and pull, finely tuned to get the most information out of a witness.

"Angry? No!" She shook her head emphatically. "That's not… Not how it was."

"Then how was it, Ms. Alon?" Ryan asked.

The woman sighed, folding the tissue from her right hand over to the left, then back to the right.

"With the baby coming, she'd been thinking of taking a step back, maybe even be a stay-at-home mom. She was _so_ excited about this baby." A sad smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"She's been dreaming about it for so long. So she was looking at ways to make that transition - should she sell her share, should we hire someone, that kind of stuff." Anita Alon animated every sentence with her hands, waving and fluttering, as if conducting the rhythm of her words.

"Yeah, sure, we'd argued sometimes. We were both passionate about the company; we love what we've created here! So yeah, we hadn't quite found a path we'd both agree on, but I wasn't angry about it. She _never_ would've left me high and dry," the woman added emphatically, shaking her head. "Never."

"You seem very certain of that."

"I've known her for a long time. And she was one of the kindest people I've ever known."

"Are you aware of any problems she might've had with anyone else; had she expressed any concerns recently, anything that worried her?"

"No. Everybody liked her." She shrugged, seemed to lose herself in a thought for a moment.

"Oh." She looked back up with wide eyes, seemingly astonished at her own recollection. "There was that guy the other day-"

"What guy?" Castle leaned forward with intrigue; Ryan next to him had his pen poised, ready to take notes.

"He marched in here, demanded to talk to Vicky. He seemed very angry. I think she knew him." She shook her head. "He was _not_ a stranger to her. They went into her office, and then he stormed back out maybe ten minutes later. Victoria was rattled, I mean it'd really scared her, I could tell. But she never told me what it was all about."

"Can you give us a description of the man?"

"He was quite tall, muscular, black hair, a little long in the back." She played her fingers at the back of her neck as if to draw the imagery to go with her words. "Actually, he did kinda look familiar, but I just couldn't place him…" She trailed off.

"Did you get a name?"

"No, I didn't, but our reception desk should be able to give you that information. Every visitor is required to show ID and get a pass to enter our offices."

* * *

"Hey, Beckett. We're back." Castle closed the door behind him, and Kate looked up, her expression curving into a tender smile.

"Hey, babe."

Kate made no move to get up, so he sat down next to her on the couch in her office. She pushed the thick report she'd been reading off to the side, leaned her cheek on his shoulder instead. Castle slid a hand over her thigh, and she sighed, seemed to melt into his touch.

He let the moment settle between them; he knew things were weighing on her. This case was hitting her hard, and if she needed a break, if all she needed was his presence, then he'd be there for her. Words had always been his strong suit; his words had often been her solid ground, yet it was Kate who had taught him the value of silence. Of just being present, being in the moment with her.

"Do you really think I'm going to be a good mother?" Her voice was strong despite the concern inherent in the question. As if she'd readied herself to face her worst fear, no matter the answer. She had such strength in her; he was still so amazed by her. She was looking out the window into the distance as she spoke, and he wondered what she was seeing, what bleak version of the future she was envisioning, the jagged lines and colors of her fears.

"Or will I end up leaving my child motherless, too?"

"Kate-"

"I can't stop thinking about this woman, and the way she was lying there, shot in the chest." Her hand rose to her chest, palm pressing over her own scar. "Cradling her baby as she lay dying. She couldn't protect either one of them, in the end. And I-"

"No, Kate. Hey, listen to me," he implored, taking her hands in his, urging her to look at him. At last, she turned her head, worried green eyes meeting his.

"Life is dangerous no matter what we do. You could walk out of here and get hit by a car-"

"This isn't exactly reassuring," she interjected, a hint of droll humor in her words.

"But it is, Kate. In a weird, roundabout way, I guess…" She rolled her eyes at him and he felt the affection of it shimmy down his spine.

"What I mean to say is, nobody's next day is guaranteed. Nobody's. No matter what they do, or what job they have. We both know that." The thought of the serial killer crossed his mind, not for the first time, knowing she was still out there, aiming for his wife, his beautiful, extraordinary wife. His heart seized, the knot of worry like a fist in his stomach. He breathed through it, banning it from his mind, because Kate needed him to be strong for her, to give her the reassurance she sought, and he had to believe that they'd be safe; if nothing else, he would always believe that they'd make it. Always.

"Is your job more dangerous? Possibly. But you are also much more prepared, and better trained than almost anyone else. And so we live what we have here now, and we don't take it for granted." He curved his palm to her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, blinking slowly.

"You, Kate Beckett, are going to be an amazing mother. You know why?"

She shook her head, and a blush crept into her cheeks.

"Because you worry about being a good mother. Because you'll do the best you can, every day. You'll give your all to take care of our child; I know you will. And you're kind, and compassionate, and fierce! Oh, you'll be a fierce momma bear; I just know it." She chuckled.

"And I promise you, Kate, I promise that if anything ever happened to you, I will take good care of our child. You know I will. I won't let our kid drown in grief; I'll be there. And should anything happen to me, I know you would do the same."

She nodded. Her hand rose to cradle the back of his neck, and she leaned her forehead against his. "Okay," she whispered, nodding against him. "'Course I will, Castle. I promise."

* * *

"Damn straight I confronted her," the man slouched on the chair in Interrogation One declared without a hint of remorse. "That bitch was cheating on my brother!"

A second of stunned silence followed his statement, and Castle's mouth fell open, a sound resembling a squeal falling from his lips. Kate slapped his bicep, glared at him to remind him to stay silent, though she understood the reaction. The victim, by all accounts a perfect person, turning out to be a cheater - she hadn't quite seen this one coming, either.

"How do you know she was cheating on your brother?" Esposito was asking the suspect, leaning forward on the table. Ryan had stopped taking notes, his pen hovering above the legal pad.

Dominic DeLuca hadn't been blessed quite like his brother in the looks department. His features were harsher, making him look grim rather than sensual, and his stature was bulky, weight slowly creeping up on him. _In ten years he'll be a good hundred pounds overweight_ , Kate speculated as she and Castle observed the questioning from behind the glass.

"I saw her with some guy."

"What guy?" Ryan questioned. "When and where did you see them?"

"Two days ago, maybe three. Over by Columbus Circle. I come up from the subway, and there they were, comin' outta the Starbucks or something. And they've no shame; broad daylight and all, and they're hugging and then he tugs her to him, nuzzling her face and shit. Next day, I'm still steamin' about it, so I go to her office and give her a piece of my mind."

"Then what happened?"

"She denied it! Flat-out denied it. I saw you, says I, and she claims it was someone else, that she was never over there. But I'm sure, and I could tell she wasn't telling the truth; she was hidin' somethin'. So I had no choice-"

"So you killed her-?"

"No, I- Wait, what? Killed her? She's… she's dead? You tellin' me Vicky's dead?" The large man paled, and he leaned back in the chair, his mouth falling open. "When-?"

"This morning."

"Does Luciano know?" he asked, and Ryan nodded.

"Damn." The man shook his head, rubbed a large palm across his face. "That ain't good."

"So what did you mean when you said, 'you had no choice'?"

"I went and told him. Luciano. I told him what I saw."

"You're telling me your brother knew his wife was cheating on him?"

DeLuca nodded. "Yep. He was heartbroken. Such a shame, too. I really liked her, up 'till then. Thought those two, they were the real deal." He shrugged.

"No such thing as true love, I guess, right?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Lanie called to confirm that ballistics were a match for the gun found on the scene." Ryan walked up to the murder board, added the information under the crime details. "Victoria Van Houten was definitely killed with her own revolver."

"Anything else?"

"No, she's still waiting on some results; says she'll have an update for you in the morning."

Kate nodded. "Espo?"

"Yo, so we put Dominic DeLuca in with a sketch artist to get an idea of the guy that the victim supposedly had the affair with."

"With whom," Castle said.

Espo's eyebrows knitted. "What's that, bro?"

"It should be, 'the guy with whom she supposedly had an affair'…" His voice withered away at the end of his sentence under the intense glares of the other detectives. "Never mind."

"Anyway…" Esposito pointedly directed his gaze back at Kate. "All we have on the mystery man so far is, and I quote, 'tall guy, blond hair, kinda, what's it called these days, hipster-looking, wears glasses.'"

"Well that narrows it down to about a third of the population of the Lower East Side," Kate muttered, rubbing her temples with the tips of her index fingers. How was there seemingly no momentum with this case? It felt like one step forward, two steps back. And that with everybody from the media down to the Chief of Police seemingly breathing down her neck.

"Dominic DeLuca's alibi seems solid too," Ryan added. "Called his work. They confirmed he got in this morning at seven sharp. He lives and works in Brooklyn, so given the time it'd take on the subway or by car to even get over to Park and 67th, then get back… There's no way he could've killed the victim and be at work by seven a.m."

"Not only that." Vikram appeared behind Ryan, startling the detective so badly that he scrawled a long jagged line across the murder board.

"Dang it, man!" Ryan reached for the sponge, swiping an edge to the blue marker line, trying to avoid erasing any of their collected information. "How do you always sneak up like that?"

"Ninja skills," Vikram stated wryly.

Castle snickered. "Nice."

"Came to let you know that I checked DeLuca's subway card, ran it for travel times," Vikram continued. "He swiped his card at six twenty-eight this morning at Alabama Ave station."

"Which confirms that he was definitely in Brooklyn during our window of death," Ryan concluded.

"Okay, so that pretty much rules out Dominic DeLuca as a suspect," Kate said, while Castle lifted DeLuca's photo off the murder board, moving it from beneath the header for 'suspects' to the 'witnesses' section.

"What about the women you interviewed?"

"Anita Alon, the victim's business partner, dropped her daughter off at daycare around 7 this morning. Daycare confirmed the time. She Uber-ed from their home to the daycare, then straight on to her office because, she stated, she needed to be on time for an early morning meeting. The Uber driver confirmed the driving times and the route, which rules her out as a suspect, too." Again, Castle moved Alon's photo from one side to the other on their board once Esposito had finished his summary of the alibi.

"And as for Claudia Lombard," Ryan consulted his notes, ticking off the salient points. "The check-in system at the yoga studio confirms she got to the studio at six forty-one a.m., and checked out at eight twenty-two. She took her own car to get there, and Vikram located it on traffic cam footage at several points along the route she said she had taken."

Vikram nodded in agreement, Kate wrote down the additional details, and Castle moved Claudia Lombard's photo. As if prompted by some transcendent inaudible voice, they all stepped back as one, eyeing the board.

"So all we have is a husband with a weak alibi, a supposed affair with a mystery man for which there is very little proof of it having happened, and the fact that the husband knew about said affair?" It was less question than statement as Castle summarized her thoughts.

"A crazy, unsubstantiated theory wouldn't be unwelcome, Castle," she needled her husband a little, needing a dose of his out-of-the-box thinking, even if just to get her thoughts redirected along some alternative paths.

"So what if-? No, what about-" Rick leaned against the desk behind him, eyebrows knitted in thought. "Hm, no. I got nothing." He shook his head. "The husband's still the most likely suspect, though that is completely boring and way too predictable."

"Be that as it may," Kate said, "let's bring him in again. Grill him on what he knew about the cheating."

"Will do, boss," Espo nodded. "Not you, though."

"Yeah, don't you have somewhere to be?" Ryan planted himself next to Espo, an eyebrow quirked as he eyed her. What would they do with themselves, she wondered, if they couldn't gang up on her?

"Party with the rich and famous, huh?"

"Oh right!" Kate looked at her watch, surprised by how late they were running.

"Let's go, Castle."

' _Like I said, totally whipped,'_ she heard Espo mutter to Ryan behind her back. It made her smile. If he was whipped, she wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

"Oh, Katherine, you look ravishing!"

Kate felt a blush rise into her cheeks, and smoothed her hands down over the lines of her dark purple dress, skeptically eyeing the way it hugged her hips before it fanned out into flowing folds of airy fabric. "You think so?"

"Absolutely stunning." Martha nodded, stepping closer. She seemed to mull something over for a second, her eyes skimming across Kate's face, and then ran a hand over Kate's hair, and rested her palm against the side of the younger woman's face.

"And don't worry, no one can tell just yet."

"Tell?" Kate's breathing quickened, her hand sliding down over her belly before she could stop herself from the revealing gesture. "You know?"

"A mother always knows," Martha said with a knowing smile. Kate felt her knees go watery, and then Martha seemed to realize what she had said. She grabbed for Kate's hand, cradled it in both her palms. Her skin felt like tissue paper against Kate's, thin and delicate as it stretched over the older woman's bones.

"Oh, I'm so sorry darling, I shouldn't-"

"No, no, Martha please, it's…" Beckett scrambled for the right words, to arrange the tidal wave of conflicting emotions into some semblance of sense.

"It's okay, actually," she said at last, finding it to be true. This woman had welcomed her with enthusiasm and warmth and open arms, had become the closest Kate now had to a mother figure in her life, and Kate was so grateful, valued the unwavering support and her unique wisdom.

"You must miss her terribly, going through this."

"Every second," Kate whispered, blinking against the sheen of tears that was clouding her vision.

"Oh, darling girl," Martha cooed, folding Kate into her arms, and Kate let herself sink into the motherly embrace. She thought back to her earlier conversation with Rick, about no one's days being guaranteed, about living life to the fullest, day by day, and so she hugged his mother tightly, and said,

"I love you, Martha."

"Oh." Martha pulled away, her hands cradling Kate's shoulders as she looked at her with a watery, delighted smile.

"I love you too, Katherine." She swiped at a tear at the corner of her eye, and Kate laughed a little self-consciously, felt herself biting her bottom lip again.

"Now enough of that," Castle's mother declared decisively, hooking her arm around Kate's elbow and dragging her along out of the bedroom.

"Let's get going. Before we completely ruin our makeup."

* * *

"But I didn't kill her! I swear!" Luciano DeLuca was leaning forward on the table, palms lying open in supplication. "Why would I kill my wife?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ryan looked over at Espo, shrugged as if the potential motives had only just occurred to him. "Money?!"

"Or, say you started feeling encumbered by a wife and child," Espo started ticking off their theories. "Didn't wanna be a dad; all that responsibility… You wanted your freedom; the life of the successful bachelor actor, the parties, the women…"

"But I loved her!" DeLuca pleaded.

"All that money sure woulda come in handy…" Ryan nodded.

"No! I didn't care about-"

"Or maybe," Detective Esposito turned to stare down DeLuca, "you wanted to punish her. You were so angry at her for cheating on you that you killed her."

"You-" He gasped. "You know about that?"

The detectives nodded. "Question is," Ryan asked, "why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"I didn't think it'd matter," he muttered. "Why blemish her character now that she's dead?"

"Cut the crap, DeLuca. You hid information pertinent to her murder!"

"So what if I did?" He straightened in his chair. "I'm not an idiot. I knew it was gonna put me right on top of your suspect list. Would you even have looked anywhere else? I didn't kill her; so why shouldn't I protect myself?"

Espo stabbed his index finger over the legal pad on the table. "You wanna _not_ be on top of that list? Talk. Who was she having an affair with?"

"I don't know!"

"What did she say when you asked her?"

"I didn't ask." The two detectives just waited, let the silence dangle like Damocles' sword. "Look, all I know is what my brother told me he saw. She didn't know I knew."

"Why didn't you confront her?"

"Because-"

"Because what?"

"Because I didn't want it to be real, okay? Because I wanted to keep what I had. And I wanted-" The man hunched over in his chair, hung his head. "I wanted my baby."

Ryan felt, not for the first time, that he really wanted to believe this man. He couldn't trust it; he had to follow the evidence wherever it led them. It was his job. But he'd wanted to believe in this love story. He was getting sappy. His lovely Jenny, his amazing children, they'd made him sappy.

"Okay. Let's look at the money. You had a lot to gain with your wife's death-"

"No, I didn't," DeLuca interjected, indignant now. "We had a prenup that covered that. Even in the event of her death. I insisted on it when we got married; I didn't want her or her family to have any doubts or questions when she married me."

"And yet in her will, she bequeaths you a substantial amount of funds."

"Those funds weren't for me. We discussed that. It was all money from her trust fund, money she already owned. She did that for the baby. So I'd have sufficient means to raise our child if anything ever-" He swallowed hard.

"Under these circumstances, all the inheritance, all that family fortune eventually goes solely to Sander, her twin brother."

* * *

"Oh, darling, what a party!" Castle's mother sailed up to him, champagne glass in hand. "Almost as many people as for my book launch."

"Thank you, Mother." He raised his glass, clinked it to hers. "Supportive as always."

"Yeah, well, I do what I can." She smiled, leaned against his arm for a moment as they sipped champagne, observing the crowd.

The large ballroom sparkled with lights that glinted off the silver and pale blue-grey décor and accent pieces chosen to match the coloring of the _High Heat_ cover art. A large display of his latest book sat in the center where he'd been spending a substantial part of his evening so far, signing books and conversing with publicists, members of the press, book critics, friends, and fans. It was a roaring success: the champagne flowed freely, the hors d'œvres were delicious, the guests seemed to be enjoying themselves, and the positive advance reviews were, so far, outweighing the negative ones.

"Just one more after this," Martha mused, toasting her glass to someone who'd recognized her, smiling at her from a distance.

"What do you mean, Mother?"

"Well isn't the next book the last one of your contract?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You haven't even thought of what might be next, have you?" He shook his head. In fact, he had not. How had it not occurred to him? Was there going to be more of Nikki Heat? _Should_ there be? There was value in knowing when to end a series; in hindsight, he thought he should've ended Derrick Storm about six books earlier than he had. And yet, not writing Nikki… It made his heart ache, a kind of visceral pain lancing through him.

"Oh, Richard. You have perfected the art of procrastination, my boy." His mother patted him on the arm, and, having succeeded in her mission to thoroughly discombobulate his thoughts, she scampered away into the crowd. He stared after her.

"Hey, babe. What's got you so pensive?"

He felt physically relieved by the sudden presence of his wife by his side, the knot under his ribs loosening, unraveling. He shooed away the thoughts.

"It's nothing. Tell you later," he reassured her, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side.

"Careful, my cheese!" She held up her plate so it wouldn't spill at the sudden movement. Kate plucked a cube of smoked gouda off her plate stacked high with cheese and grapes, pushed it into her mouth, closed her eyes as she chewed.

"Oh god this is so good," she moaned around her mouthful, and he laughed.

"Cravings?" He stole a cheddar cube off her plate and she glared at him.

"Don't you know it." She nodded, selected another piece of cheese and a purple grape. "At least this is good calcium."

They stood observing the guests for a while, Kate quietly eating next to him. He finished his champagne, placed the glass on an empty tray when a waiter passed by. At one point he noticed Alexis in the crowd, giggling at something her date was saying.

"Hey, is that Officer Hernandez, over there with Alexis?" Kate asked.

"Huh." Castle squinted at the man. "Sure looks like him." His daughter waved when she saw them, and he grinned back. "That's interesting."

"Did you know they knew each other?"

Castle shook his head. "No." He watched them for a few moments, intrigued by this latest development he'd been so unaware of, until Alexis and her date had melted into the crowd of guests, disappearing from his view. Kate swayed against him to the light piano music that filled the room, her arm brushing his while she snacked from her cheese plate.

"Thank you. For the dedication." Kate turned to him, her eyes meeting his, and warmth welled through him at the untainted pride, the heartfelt wonder shining in her gaze. "I love it."

Rick tugged her closer, ran his other hand across her stomach while he thought back to earlier tonight, when he'd observed her open his new book with solemn reverence. The look of awe on her face when she had brushed her index finger across the two lines as she had read his message for her. It reminded him of the first _Nikki Heat_ book party, the first time she had found his awe of her reflected in the lines printed black on white and irrefutable onto that first page. The way she had looked at him then, flushed and flustered. He'd kept the dedication a surprise ever since, never tired of this very moment when he gifted his words to her.

 _To K. B._

 _For always and more._


	5. Chapter 5

They'd barely stepped off the elevator at the precinct the next morning when the hazing started.

"So Beckett, Castle, looks like a _great_ party last night, huh?"

Castle felt on immediate alert at the way Ryan emphasized the word 'great.' Kate stiffened next to him. Uh oh. Whatever was going on, it couldn't be good.

"Yeah, guys, anything new you wanna share with the class?"

"I mean, we wouldn't want to have to rely solely on the paper for information, now would we?"

"Hmm, I don't know, Ryan, sure makes for some fascinating reading." Espo reached for the _New York Ledger_ lying on his desk and opened it, held a page out for them to see, finger pointing at the fat headline above a large picture of the two of them taken at the party, showing Kate nestled against his side, and Castle's palm resting on her hip.

"Little Rookie on the Way?" Espo read the headline.

"Little Rookie, I kinda like that." Kate glared at him, squeezing his knuckles, hard. "What, it's clever. Rook, rookie cop-"

"Castle!"

"At yesterday's launch party for the latest Nikki Heat novel, _High Heat_ , out in bookstores today," Ryan started reading from the article aloud, looking over the rim of the paper with raised eyebrows, "Richard Castle was repeatedly seen stroking and caressing his wife's stomach. The inspiration for Nikki Heat and wife of the best-selling author, Captain Kate Beckett of the NYPD's 12th Precinct, wore a gorgeous, flowing Vera Wang dress that couldn't quite hide the growing baby bump. Mr. Castle's publisher has declined to comment."

All eyes in the bullpen seemed to simultaneously sink to Kate's midsection, and Castle bristled.

"Come on, guys, little respect here?" Castle grabbed the paper from Ryan's hands, stuffed it in a waste basket.

"Haven't you learned yet not to believe everything that's printed in the tabloids?"

"You know, anytime you're done, gossip girls…" Kate had crossed through the bullpen and planted herself next to the murder board, hands at her waist. The detectives took one look at her and scurried close, looking appropriately chastised.

"Sorry, Captain."

"Won't happen again."

* * *

"Can you just knock it off?" Beckett slapped his hand away from where he'd been flipping through the radio stations, turning the music off instead. Silence fell between them, oppressive under the waves of irritation radiating from his wife.

After Ryan had summarized last night's questioning of Luciano DeLuca and the murder board had been updated, Beckett had dispatched the detectives to question the victim's twin brother, while he and Beckett took off to see Lanie.

"You okay?" He eyed her while she drove, the concentration on her face, the rigid clench of her jaw.

"Yeah, I just…" She looked over her shoulder, merged into the left lane. "I hate lying to them."

"I know." Castle ran a hand over her thigh. His touch seemed to soothe her a bit, so he left it there to rest.

"I mean, should we just tell them? Is it silly to still wait, after that stupid story in the paper? They've been suspicious for weeks, but now-"

"I can't answer that one for you, sweetheart. You're the one who's pregnant; it's your choice." She glanced at him, gnawing on her lip.

"We've waited for good reasons," he continued. "It made sense. They'll understand that. But we're there now. We've made it to twelve weeks, and everything is just fine. So if you really want to tell them, tell them."

"But we've got it all planned."

"It's okay to change it up. There are no rules for this kind of thing."

"Yeah." She sighed, pulled the car into a parking spot around the corner from the entrance to the morgue. Beckett turned off the motor, but she stayed in her seat, staring out the windshield.

"You know what, I'm being silly." Kate turned for him, her voice strong with whatever decision she'd just made. "It's only a little longer now. I let that ridiculous article get to me. But I don't want it to have that power, to take that joy away from us. So let's just stick to the plan, do it like we wanted to, instead of feeling pushed into it. Okay?"

He nodded, feeling proud of her. "Okay." She'd struggled with the scrutiny that often hung over their lives, the tabloids and paparazzi, the trappings of fame. It had its downsides, living the kind of life they led, yet once she had chosen to be with him, and all that it entailed, she was all in. She'd been battling her way through it, and she was coming out on top. He was so incredibly proud of her.

"It's going to be such fun!"

* * *

"You doin' okay, girlfriend?" Lanie asked as soon as they stepped inside the morgue. "I'd give you a hug, but-" She gestured at the blue gown, the purple gloves. "Morgue grime."

"Yeah, I'm fine." The other woman still eyed her with scrutiny. "Better."

"This case hitting you kinda hard?"

Lanie stood across from them, the slab with the body between them, looking pale blue and grotesque where the skin had stretched to adapt to the pregnancy, and caving in now that the child was no longer nestled within. The victim's straight blonde hair looked ghostly white under the bright glare of the fluorescent lights.

Beckett nodded. "Yeah, it's… Let's put it this way, the parallels aren't lost on me." Castle stepped a little closer, rested his hand over her lower back.

"Mm hm, I gotcha. Well, let me cut right to the chase then." At that, she and Castle took a step closer to the slab.

"The victim died of a single gunshot wound to the chest. The fetus was male, about thirty weeks' gestation, and died within a few minutes of his mother due to the loss of circulation that'd supply him with oxygen." Lanie pointed to the large petri dish placed on the sideboard that held his remains, but Kate couldn't make herself look.

"The bullet was a nine-millimeter, and ballistics matched it to the .38 caliber Smith & Wesson 638 revolver found at the scene. The shot pierced the right ventricle, went straight through and exited-" Lanie turned the body half over, showing Beckett and Castle the exit wound near the victim's spine. "Right here."

The medical examiner returned the body to its original position, pointing her pen at the ribcage. "The victim also sustained a couple of broken ribs, which occurred post-mortem, due to the pressure of CPR being administered. Bruising at the back of her head suggests that she slammed her head really hard on the floor when she fell after being hit."

"She didn't catch herself," Castle stated.

"No." Lanie shook her head. "She died fairly quickly, but, given the placement of her hands when she was found on the scene, it is highly unlikely that she was dead before she landed on the floor."

"She didn't throw out her arms to catch her fall," Kate surmised what she'd suspected all along. "She tried to protect the baby instead."

"Pure instinct, most likely," Lanie agreed.

"Could her arms have been moved into position post-mortem?"

Lanie shook her head. "No. We would see some bruising from that, and strain to the joints if they'd been manipulated by force."

The medical examiner stepped over to the sideboard, then returned, holding a long slim plastic stick. "Now, here's where it gets interesting. The trajectory of the bullet was fairly straight." Lanie carefully inserted the plastic stick into the wound, and the stick stuck out perpendicular to the body, forming an almost completely vertical line.

"It barely hit at an angle, which suggests that the shooter was taller than five foot four, and definitely less than six feet."

"That'd rule out her husband," Castle said, and Kate nodded.

"Now, if I were to guess," Lanie continued, "I'd say the shooter's size was very similar to the victim's height, between five foot five and five foot eight, to be precise." Lanie held her arm out straight, formed her thumb and index finger into a pointed gun, and then pulled the imaginary trigger. "See this straight line?" Beckett nodded.

"Like that. But I can't confirm it that precisely with any authority."

"Thanks, Lanie, got it. Anything else?"

"Well as we suspected, the gun was wiped clean. There were no fingerprints, not even partials, so that's a dead end. And they're still processing the fingerprinting done at the scene, but there's just so many different ones, it's like looking for a needle in a pile of needles."

Kate looked at the body once more, taking her moment to honor the victim that she hadn't been able to focus on yesterday morning with the persistent waves of nausea overwhelming her senses.

"Okay. Castle and I need to head back. Thanks again, Lanie. Call if there's anything else." The other woman nodded.

At the door, Beckett turned back to look at her friend. "You'll be there tonight?"

Lanie smiled. "I wouldn't miss it."

* * *

"I knew something was wrong the moment it happened." Sander Van Houten had the same blond hair as his sister, the same facial shape and mouth, the same wide cheekbones. He was several inches taller, but seemed to have shrunk into himself as he sat in the hard metal chair in Interrogation Two. His lawyer sat next to him, chest puffed out in an expensive-looking suit, a writing pad and silver pen placed at precise angles on the table before him.

"Couldn't tell what, but I knew." Van Houten looked past them with an empty stare. It was as if the life had drained out of him.

"Where were you yesterday between six and eight a.m.?"

The lawyer uncapped his pen, but Van Houten didn't move a muscle, his voice remaining the same flat monotone with which he'd spoken so far.

"Home."

"Can anybody vouch for that?"

"My wife. The housekeeper. The gardener, maybe? I had a conference call that morning. With China."

"When?" Ryan asked.

"Seven-thirty. Had this knot in my stomach the whole time." The man pushed a fist to his midsection. "Didn't know why, just that something wasn't right." His eyes shifted to Espo, meeting his gaze for the first time.

"Now I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ryan went through the usual questions - did his sister have any known enemies, any financial troubles - yet Van Houten had no information they hadn't already obtained.

"Were you aware that your sister had an affair?"

"What? No." He shook his head, the first lively movement the man had made so far. "She'd never do that. She loved Luciano; she'd fought for him despite the family's objections. And he was so sweet with her."

"You seem certain of that."

"I _am_ certain. I knew her better than anyone; it's a twin thing, I guess. We'd pick up on each other's moods; we've never needed words to understand what the other was saying. I would've known if she- No." He shook his head. "She was not a cheater."

"With your sister dead, you stand to solely inherit the family estate," Espo stated, letting the non-question fill the room with its accusatory weight.

"You don't have to answer that," the lawyer cautioned, placing a hand on his client's forearm.

"I've enough money." Sander Van Houten merely shrugged. "I only had the one sister."

* * *

"His alibi holds." Ryan slapped the file folder on the nearest desk.

"Plus, based on Lanie's assessment about the bullet trajectory, at six foot he's also too tall to be our murderer," Castle added.

Beckett pulled Sander Van Houten's photo off the murder board, and slapped it under the 'witness' column, smacked her hand against it for good measure. "What is it with this case? How do we have nothing? We don't even have a single suspect anymore."

The frustration made her irritable. This morning she had already fielded two phone calls from the D.A. and 1PP, practically ordering her to handle the case personally to its conclusion. She knew she was going to fall behind on her other responsibilities for several days. She was long past being surprised at the clout the super-rich and well-connected held with law enforcement, but when it affected her work and the functioning of her precinct, it would never stop being an annoyance.

She ran her hands through her hair, gathered her thoughts. "We ever get the security footage from the victim's apartment?"

"Street cams were a bust. Too much activity. And the building security tapes still haven't been released to us."

"Vikram, get on that. We needed that footage, like, yesterday. And someone find that night doorman and get his statement!"

"On it, boss." Esposito made a note in his dog-eared notebook.

"What about financials?"

"Nothing unusual in the victim's bank statements," Ryan supplied. "No sudden movement of large sums, no suspicious activity, and the info that the husband gave on both the prenup and her will also checks out."

"Interesting…" Castle muttered to himself, and Kate turned to him.

"What is it, Castle?"

"Oh." He looked up from the stack of paper he'd been leafing through. "I've been skimming her bank statement."

"And?"

"Well, there's nothing unusual per se, like Ryan said, but there are recurring charges on her statement from a company called 'Cryonics Labs International.'"

Kate leaned over his shoulder to look. "Castle, this was like eight months ago!"

"Yeah but see, there was an exact charge of $600, once per month, recurring for several months, and then it just stops. What do you suppose that is?"

"Sounds like a doctor's office to me," Espo said. "Maybe she made payments on her bill."

"Why would she do that? She was rich; why wouldn't she just pay off her bill? It was only three grand in total before the payments stopped."

"Maybe she supported some type of medical research?" Ryan asked.

"Dude, I thought they'd pay you for that shit," Espo threw in, "not charge you."

"Cryonics, cryo-technology…" Kate could see the wheels turning in Castle's brain, and braced herself for the impact of the outlandish theory. She wasn't disappointed.

"She was planning to freeze her body after death!" he declared, and she rolled her eyes. "Do they take payments on that…?" Espo groaned audibly. But then something sparked in her mind, something about technology and doctors and testing-

"What about DNA… Some type of DNA testing?"

Castle turned toward her, their eyes meeting, holding. "Maybe she did have an affair… And was having the baby's DNA checked to figure out who fathered it," he said.

"Castle, the payments stopped before she got pregnant-"

"Right. So then… Wait, the payments stopped right before she got pregnant?"

"Maybe she was getting fertility treatments-"

"The husband didn't mention anything-"

"But maybe that's because we didn't ask-"

"Guys, guys. Hey!"

They startled at Ryan's voice, put some distance back between them that seemed to have significantly diminished while they'd traded ideas back and forth.

"Look at the address of that place." Detective Ryan handed over his iPhone, with the information of Cryonics Labs International pulled up on the screen. "Isn't that right by Columbus Circle?"

"That's where the husband's brother saw the victim with our mystery guy!"

"Come on, Beckett," Castle announced, wrapped his arm around her waist. "Let's take a trip to the fertility clinic, what do you say?"

* * *

Cryonics Labs International occupied three floors in one of the twin towers of Time Warner Center. Its office space was mellow, all muted colors and understated decor. A subtle scent was filling the air, and Castle heard the distinct hum of white noise piped in to mute the myriad sounds of conversation. It reminded him more of a high-end legal firm than any kind of clinic.

"Captain Beckett, NYPD." Kate had stepped up to the reception desk to announce her presence, while Castle let his eyes wander across the vast space. This reception area was no usual waiting room space, though a few seating areas, with sofas arranged around side tables and dimmed lamps, were placed in strategic corners. A row of headshot photos with plaques beneath hung along one wall, and Castle stepped closer, one picture jumping out at him.

"Beckett?" He called for her. "Come here, you need to see this."

She came to join him and he pointed at the black-and-white photograph. "See anyone we recognize?"

Her eyes widened. "That's the man from the sketch, the one with whom DeLuca's brother saw the victim."

"The company's founder and CEO, Dr. Theodore Vandervahl."

"You're here about Victoria." It wasn't a question. Theodore Vandervahl gestured them inside his cozy office. It was a smaller space than what Castle had envisioned for the CEO, but with its wall of windows overlooking the hectic bustle of Columbus Circle twenty floors below them and muted sunlight flooding in, the space was meticulously designed to be warm, cozy, welcoming. Diplomas, credentials, and awards certificates in expensive frames were lined up along one wall. Tall plants encircled a seating area that reminded him of an inviting family living room.

Dr. Vandervahl sank into his office chair, and Castle pulled out a chair for Kate, then sat down in the one next to her.

"What can you tell us about Ms. Van Houten?"

"I've known her forever. Seems like it's been my whole life." Vandervahl pushed the square, black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, then folded his slim fingers together, his smile wistful. "Our families were friends, have been connected for generations. You know how it is, old money, same heritage and background. Family trees intertwining in some form or another for centuries."

"You know her brother as well?"

"Sander? Of course. We used to build tree houses together, out on the summer estate."

Castle leaned closer to Kate, murmuring. "Van Houten lied to us then."

Kate nodded, whispering, "Yes. He claimed he'd never seen the man in the sketch."

"He was protecting her," Vandervahl interrupted. "He's always been protective of her."

"Protecting her from what? Attacks on her reputation? Were you having an affair with Mrs. Van Houten?"

"An affair?" Vandervahl laughed without joy. "That is preposterous."

"You were seen together, hugging and kissing."

"It's normal for us to hug. I kiss her cheek to say hello, or if she's upset. We've always been affectionate."

"What about the payments she made to your company?" Castle interjected, wondering if changing the subject would add some forward momentum to the line of questioning, startle the man out of his thoughtful reverie.

"Payments?"

Rick could feel the tension rattling through Kate; he knew she'd had just about enough of the obfuscation. And he didn't have to wait long.

"Dr. Vandervahl, we can just as easily drag you down to the station and conduct this conversation in an interrogation room. Now, if you'd prefer to avoid that spectacle, I suggest you talk. Start at the beginning."

"Look, I-" The man fidgeted, ran his hands through his flawlessly coiffed hair. "I'm gay, okay?"

 _You don't say_ , Castle thought, but kept his mouth firmly closed.

"I'm not out to my family; they're very conservative, so Vicky always helped cover for me. Made up stories about dates I'd supposedly been on, excuses if I'd been spotted with a male 'friend' by my family, that sort of thing. So when she came to me for help, I reciprocated."

"What did she need help with?"

"This is a full-service fertility clinic. As a gay man, I've seen enough situations to know the difficulties of conceiving or having children in various circumstances. So I founded this company to help people who needed it, who needed services provided with the utmost discretion and privacy, and of the highest medical standards."

"So Mrs. Van Houten approached you about fertility issues?" Kate questioned.

"She'd found out her husband was infertile. She was just devastated. They'd had some tests done, and she'd intercepted the results. I helped her fake the test results so her husband would never know. You have to understand, they wanted children together so badly. She didn't want him to have to face that devastating truth. And I couldn't not help her."

"And how did she get pregnant, Mr. Vandervahl?"

"She picked a sperm donor from our catalog, someone who had the same blood type as Luciano, who had very similar facial features and coloring, the same ancestral background as her husband etcetera. I personally did her IUI's-"

"Sorry, her what?" Castle interjected.

"Oh. IUIs. Intrauterine inseminations. Took a few trials, and then she was pregnant, and that was that. She was so excited. They both were."

"So that's what the charges were for on her credit card. For her inseminations?"

"Just for the donor sperm. I didn't charge her for any services; she's family. I wouldn't have charged for that either, but legally, we must have a recipient and an invoice on file for every vial used."

"Did anybody besides you and your staff know about this?"

"Just Sander. Vicky told her brother pretty much everything. And Claudia. I think she'd said that Claudia had found out somehow. But yeah, that's it."


	6. Chapter 6

"Captain Beckett, you need to see this."

Kate had barely stepped off the elevator with Castle, and she was really craving that cheese sandwich she had waiting in the fridge. Hunger pangs gnawed at her stomach, but she followed Vikram into the tech room anyway.

"We finally got that security footage," he said, and pushed play. "Here's your relevant section."

The timestamp read 7:21 a.m. when they saw a person striding across the lobby toward the bank of elevators.

"And here…" Vikram fast-forwarded until he'd found the next scene he wanted, "is the reverse." On the video, one of the elevator doors opened, and the same person came out, crossing through the lobby again at 7:48 a.m.

"I've seen that scarf before." Castle stepped closer, tapped his index finger on the screen.

"Recognize anyone we know?"

* * *

"So, Miss Lombard, did you enjoy that yoga class yesterday morning?"

Kate sat down across from the woman, placed her file folder in front of her. Next to her, Castle settled into his chair, forearms resting on the table and his fingers folded: attentive, focused.

"It was… fine?" Claudia Lombard looked a little startled. To anybody less trained than Beckett or her team, the woman would seem sincere in her bewilderment, but Kate could tell they had rattled her with the question.

"Did they do Salabhasana? Because I've heard that it's _the_ best pose for posture."

Kate had to press her lips together to keep the smile off her face at Castle's comment.

"Yes. I think so?"

"You think so? You don't know? It was only yesterday."

"I'm not sure. It blends after a while? I go every week."

"Just odd that no one who took the class actually remembers seeing you there," Castle pointed out. He kept his tone matter-of-fact, deliberately pensive. "Not even the Yogi. And you'd think he'd recognize you by now, seeing as how you attend his class every week? Unless-"

Kate leaned forward. "You didn't attend the class, did you, Ms. Lombard?"

"Yes. I did. I told you guys I checked in at the studio at quarter to seven."

"You did. You also clocked out at eight twenty-two. However, that doesn't prove that you were actually in the studio for the entire 90-plus minutes in between."

"Instead, you snuck out the unsecured fire exit into the alley at the back of the studio," Castle narrated, bringing the story to life.

"As it turns out, YogaWorks is less than a mile from Ms. Van Houten's apartment. That's what," he turned toward Kate, "maybe fifteen minutes by foot?"

Beckett nodded. "You went to visit her," she picked up the narrative where Castle had left off. "She let you in, she even made you coffee! And then you shot her, in cold blood, with her own gun!"

"Why would I do that?" She was my best friend." Claudia Lombard leaned back, folded her arms. "You've no proof of any of that." She added, sounding sullen now.

"Actually, Miss Lombard, we do." Kate opened her folder, slid out the first still shot pulled from the building security footage. "Here you are, entering the apartment building at seven twenty-one yesterday morning…"

The woman turned her head, defiantly did not look down at the photograph.

"And here," Kate slapped the next photo on top of the first. "You are walking through the lobby on your way out at seven forty-eight."

"Who's to say that's me?"

Wordlessly, Beckett placed a third photo on the table. This one was a close-up, zoomed in on the security video that showed the face of Claudia Lombard.

"We have the statement of the security guard whom you bribed to let you through without recording you into the visitors' log. And your fingerprints were found on a coffee cup sitting on the kitchen island next to Ms. Van Houten's mug of tea."

"I won't say another word without my lawyer."

"That's okay," Beckett said. "We really don't need your statement. We have enough already to charge you with two counts of first-degree murder." She was laying it on a little thick; just the evidence alone wouldn't quite be enough to make those charges stick, but Claudia Lombard didn't know that.

"That's a Class A-I felony, Ms. Lombard. Carrying a minimum sentencing of twenty to twenty-five years."

The woman paled, valiantly tried not to show any reaction, pushing her hands into her lap to hide her shaking fingers.

"Could be life without parole," Castle added. "For two murders, a mother and an unborn child?"

Kate nodded. "Or the death penalty. The people of New York won't look kindly on that." She slid the photographs back into her folder and got up, Castle's chair scraping over the floor as he did the same.

"I'm going to call the DA," Beckett said to Castle as they walked toward the door.

"She always got _everything_."

Castle and Beckett turned as one, stared at the woman who in the span of thirty seconds looked like an entirely different person.

"Do you know that I introduced them? I met him first. I was in _love_ with him. And she just took him from me."

This Claudia Lombard was angry, years of pent-up, deep-seated frustration spewing from her in waves. Her beautiful features had transformed into a grotesque mask of crazed eyes, blotchy skin, and throbbing blue veins.

"She already had everything: the looks, all that money, her own business, that gorgeous apartment…" She pressed the words from between her teeth, her jaw clenched.

"And she just sat there, all giggly and holier-than-thou all the while she's trying to slip that…. That cuckoo's child right under Luce's nose? No, nah-uh, not on my watch. So I went there to see her but she wouldn't listen, she didn't get it, she just didn't… _get_ it, and so I took her gun from her purse, and I shot her." Claudia Lombard flopped against the back of the chair, folded her arms.

"She got what she deserved."

"And now, Ms. Lombard, you'll get what you deserve," Beckett said evenly, and walked out.

* * *

"Really, he's only leaving _now_?" Through her office windows, Beckett saw Officer Aragon lead Luciano DeLuca through the corridors of the precinct toward the sign-in desk. She rose from her desk chair and hurried out into the bullpen.

The man was signing his paperwork when she caught up to him.

"Mr. DeLuca." He looked up, dark soulful eyes meeting hers. "I'm Captain Beckett. My apologies for having to keep you in holding for so long."

"What's it matter?" He shrugged. "No worse than going home, facing-" He swallowed visibly, closed his eyes, and Kate remembered those feelings, that visceral pain, in all its facets and incarnations.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mr. DeLuca." He opened his eyes again, his starkly beautiful face looking marred, his cheeks hollowed. He nodded in acknowledgment.

"I wanted to let you know… Our investigation has shown conclusively that your wife never had an affair."

His eyes welled with tears.

"Seems that she loved you very much," she added.

"Thanks." His voice was no more than a whisper, and then he turned around and started walking. Near the elevator stood Sander Van Houten, and as DeLuca reached him, the two men just looked at one another for a long moment, and then they stepped into the elevator together.

"You didn't tell him about the child, did you." It wasn't a question; Castle knew her that well. Kate leaned back slightly, let her back rest against the warmth of his chest, the strength of his presence.

"No."

Was it still betrayal, a break of trust when the intentions had been that good? When choices had been made to spare pain, to bring joy instead? She sighed.

"Come on, Castle, let's go home. We have an important dinner to host."

* * *

"Hey, so glad you could make it tonight, come on in!" Castle gave the other man a brief, manly hug, and then Jim Beckett stepped into the loft, held out a square glass dish.

"Pecan double fudge brownies. One of Katie's favorites."

Rick took the dish from his hand. "Oh, she's gonna like that," he declared. _And you don't know the half of it_ , he added in his mind. _Not yet._

Laughter swelled behind them, and Jim glanced past Rick's shoulder at the small crowd already assembled in the dining room. "I'm so sorry, am I late?"

"Oh, not at all, you're right on time." Castle set off to bring the dessert into the kitchen, and Kate hurried past him, letting her fingers lightly trail over his waist and leaving his skin tingling as she passed by him. He watched from the kitchen island as Kate embraced her father at length, her dad murmuring things that made Kate laugh softly.

The catering was set up along the kitchen island, the food hot and fragrant. It made his stomach rumble. Before they'd left, the catering staff had placed the desserts on the dining table as they'd been instructed, one plate before each chair, each plate covered by a shiny silver dome.

Everything was just right.

"Okay everyone, please, have a seat," Castle called out above the chatter, and the group quieted, pushed back chairs, scooted in. He let his eyes wander over their small, close-knit group of family, and friends who were like family - his mother and Alexis, Kate's father, Ryan with his family, Espo and Vikram, Lanie, Hayley. A hodgepodge of a group; people from such a variety of backgrounds; smart, interesting, fun people who had found their way together, found common ground in their shared values. He felt sappy tonight but he couldn't help it; he was just so grateful to be standing here with all of them, with Kate, to get to share this life-changing, life-affirming news.

Kate appeared next to him, pressed herself against his side and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"You ready?" he murmured quietly. His wife looked up at him, and her eyes sparkled with excitement, her smile wide, uninhibited. She nodded, and he knew she was nervous as well; he could tell by the tight hold she had on his waist, her fingers digging into his skin, by the way she rolled up on her toes, the tension that ran beneath her skin. And yet she couldn't stop smiling.

"Ready for what?" Alexis piped up, and all eyes rose to the two of them, still standing at the head of the table.

"For dessert, of course! Who says dinner always has to come first?"

"Everybody. Society. Common sense?"

"Well, that's a silly rule. Come on guys, lift up those covers."

On each plate, hidden until now under the silver domes, lay an individual-sized cake, carefully crafted and artfully frosted to resemble the shapes of tiny baby shoes, of bottles, teddy bears, strollers, rattles. But before even half of the food covers were lifted, his wife blurted out,

"I'm pregnant."

A chorus of squeals, of 'what?' and 'oh my god!' and 'really?' rose up around them, swelled like a tidal wave, eyes widening, faces blooming into overjoyed smiles.

"Yes. We're going to have a baby," Kate added, and then everyone was up from their seats, crowding around them. Kate was swept into a tight hug by Ryan, who had been closest, and Alexis pressed herself against Castle's chest, her cheek resting over his sternum and her lithe arms tight around his waist. He ran his fingers through her soft, sleek hair, still missing its length, aching a little, remembering times gone by. His baby girl. His first child.

She looked up at him, a stunned kind of joy shining in her eyes. "Really, Dad? I'm going to be a big sister?" He nodded, and then her smile widened, like a sunrise over the Hamptons, bright with possibility.

"Richard, darling. Congratulations."

Alexis kissed his cheek and then untangled her arms from around him as his mother approached. From the corner of his eyes he saw his daughter leap onto his wife with an adorable little squeal, and his heart felt like it might burst.

His mother hugged him tight. "My boy," she whispered, her voice wobbly. "My boy."

Over the next few minutes he was hugged, back-slapped, hugged some more, felt like his grin was going to split his face. He watched Jim Beckett cradle his daughter in his arms, her face pressed to his neck, and the man was crying, smiling through his silent tears.

At long last, the hectic enthusiasm calmed into a quieter joy, and he found his way back to his wife. He dragged Kate into his arms, kissed her sweetly, and she lifted her arms around his neck, left them there to hang loosely as she leaned her forehead to his.

"This was perfect."

He nodded.

"Aw, come on, man!"

He and Kate turned toward Espo's voice, found the man digging a 50 out of his wallet and slapping it into Ryan's open palm, Vikram adding another 50 on top.

"I can't believe you guys didn't get it. It was so obvious!" Ryan stuffed the dollar bills into his front pocket. "Remember the week of the awful baby puns?"

"Yeah, right!" Espo scoffed. "You didn't know squat! Lucky guess is all."

Oh yeah. Everything was just right.

 _Episode beta work by acertainzest and ivyandtwine_

 _Castle Season 9 is produced by Team Planet and the writing team of Castle Season 9_ _. Executive Producer is_ _encantadaa._

 _For a full list of season 9 authors, please look at our ffnet profile._

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